


My heart on a red leash

by Seiteki9



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, also the holts are a TREASURE, bum keith, good boy shiro, redstring au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 10:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiteki9/pseuds/Seiteki9
Summary: There were a multitude of events in the world that could be considered weird: How crows liked to prank other animals, or how snails have 14 000 teeth (So many… why?), or even how some people needed to be TOLD not to stop a chainsaw with their hands or genitals?!Truth be told, having an explanation for everything could be useful, but a lot less entertaining. However, Shiro’s ability, his “gift”, had no point to it. It was not only CREEPY, but especially maddening. It distracted him half the time and just made him sad or angry the other half.But, what is it? I bet you are asking. Simple. He had the ability to SEE the fated red string.And he hated it.





	My heart on a red leash

**Author's Note:**

> I did say I wanted to write a RedString AU.  
> And this is me committing to it.

“Takashi! You can’t leave without breakfast. At least take some toast to go, you KNOW I won’t let you get out of this house on an empty stomach! Your brain cells need it, you will be down on energy by 11 and be unable to retain information properly.” Small, sweet Colleen Holt had a singular way with words. She did not care that it was Shiro’s first day of University and was determined to stuff him like a prized turkey.

 

Shiro growled. He loved her to death, her, Samuel, Matthew and Katie too, his foster family, the Holts ( _ with a bold H _ ). Nevertheless, he still felt like throwing up, nervousness tying his stomach in knots.  _ First day, take a deep breath Shirogane, you’ve got this _ .

 

The young male’s silver gaze peered down as he swallowed with difficulty. His foster mother rested her left hand on the kitchen counter and crouched down after opening the cabinet door. His eyes zeroed in on an anomaly. There, clear as day, was a red string, hers a lovely shade of scarlet, attached to her ring finger. It dropped to the ground, ran across the floor and out of the room, forever the lazy snake.

 

“I can’t. I don’t feel so good…” He mumbled in response. Sam slid passed him, entering the kitchen with a cheerful grin on his aging face. He patted Shiro on the arm with his left hand, his red string catching on the fabric of Shiro’s gray Henley. The young man felt the light pull even though his sleeve did not budge. His foster father countered. “None of that Takashi. You know how she gets. A true mother hen!”

 

Shiro sighed in annoyance.

 

There were a multitude of events in the world that could be considered weird: How crows liked to prank other animals, or how snails have 14 000 teeth ( _ So many… why? _ ), or even how some people needed to be TOLD not to stop a chainsaw with their hands or  _ genitals _ ?!

 

Truth be told, having an explanation for everything could be useful, but a lot less entertaining. However, Shiro’s ability, his “gift”, had no point to it. It was not only CREEPY, but especially maddening. It distracted him half the time and just made him sad or angry the other half.

 

 _But, what is it?_ I bet you are asking. Simple. He had the ability to SEE the fated red string.

 

And he hated it.

 

Shiro closed his eyes and counted to ten, he would cross a thousand people today, he needed to be ready and not get overwhelmed by the strange quirk.

 

An insulted scoff from Colleen rang from under the sink as she moved around pots and pans. “I heard that.” Then, a laugh from Sam. “I know you did.” And finally a soft kiss. She growled. “I hate it when you do that. It feels like you won, but you didn’t. I will remember this.”

 

Right the red string.

Everybody had one, of varying shades of red, at times completely black. It was still always there, benign, attached to the ring finger and hanging until it faded to nothingness. Strings were only visibly attached when lovers, to be or together, were of a certain distance to one another, a distance Shiro never cared enough to calculate.

 

Samuel and Colleen Holt were fated soulmates and that made his life that much more simple while complicated. They were naturally attached by the hip, unless Sam went on a mission to space, frequently laced hands, kissed and hugged. He could always feel their warmth for one another, which expended to their children, himself included.

 

Because of them, he noticed how, at times, the string, its color always a vibrant red, entwined around their hands. Them, and all others to whom it happened, were the lucky ones. The afflicted by true love.

 

However, his eyes always drifted to the noticeable bound. It flickered, shimmered and moved like a worm. The Holt siblings called the look of dismay he had when it caught his attention the “dead-eye carp stare”. Charming really.

 

“Fine, fine. I will, I will!” Shiro groaned, stepping back in the kitchen. He grabbed a cookie from a jar on the counter, ignoring Colleen’s disapproving scowl, and pushed a few pieces of bread in the toaster while stuffing said cookie in his mouth.

 

Katie ran past him at a fast pace, slapping his back on the way. “Two for me! PB&J please!” Shaking his head he added two more pieces of bread next to his own. “Good morning KT. Yes I slept well too. Of course, I would love to help you with your breakfast, because you are my favorite little sister.” Sticking her tongue out, she dropped on a chair around the kitchen table and crossed her legs. “I’m your ONLY sister. I’m THAT special.”

 

Shiro had told people once or twice, his biological parents for one, and it hadn’t gone well. He theorized that asking his father “ _ Why is mommy’s red string attached to the nice lady across the street instead of you? _ ” hadn’t been the right way to approach the subject. After a lot of talking that turned to screaming, many nights filled with tears and a rather messy divorce, his parents had never been too keen on learning about the strange event that had ruined their marriage.

 

A strange twist of fate took his mother’s life on her second honeymoon when her plane crashed on her return, while, at almost the same instant, his father caught a rare and vicious disease. At the tender age of 8, poor young Takashi Shirogane was suddenly alone in the world. To this day, he still wondered if his parents had been connected in some way he was unable not know about.

 

Matthew Holt wedged himself between Shiro and the fridge, pulling the door open, peering in and mumbled. “Does special and gremlin mean the same thing?” A few green grapes flew across the room, hitting Matt behind the head. “Hey!” Colleen barked. “ _ Katie Holt _ ! No wasting food! Go pick that up!” Katie grumbled a few curses and stood up to do as she was told.

 

Straightening up with the bottle of milk in hand, Matt rested it on the counter. He fetched a pair of glasses and a band-aid in his breast pocket and handed it to Shiro. “Here. Found them by the PlayStation.” Shiro answered with a sheepish grin and a quick thanks. Taking both, he slapped the band-aid on his nose on, covering the scar slashing it, and rested the pair of dark rimmed glasses on top. He adjusted the frames ignoring the discomfort, caught the jumping toasts with his free hand, throwing two on an empty plate and giving it to his sister.

 

She pouted. “But… I asked for PB&J…” Ruffling her hair, he took a bite of his dry toast, not even bothering with butter. “I have to leave KTKat.” She widened her eyes, answering with a devastating wet stare. “But you make them better.”

 

He laughed while exiting the kitchen and grabbed his bag from the floor. “Don’t give me that puppy dog look. A smirk fits you better”, he teased, before eating more toast. “I am practicing! I will be the master of the universe!” Lifting her knife triumphantly towards the ceiling, she ignored the dollop of strawberry jelly dropping on the table. “Have a nice day Shiro!”

 

He couldn’t help adoring his found family, without them, he didn’t know where he would have been on this very normal day. Even his younger sibling was a force to be reckoned with, Katie Holt, also known as Pidge Gunderson online, whom he affectionately called as many nicknames he could think of  _ (he had a notepad full of them somewhere, jellybean, pikmin, half-pint, button, red-headed menace, etc.) _ .

 

“See you later!” Running out of his home, he jogged to the nearest bus stop, taking out his phone. The black eyes of their dog Bae Bae stared back at him as he unlocked it. Going through a few ignored messages, he shrugged. Nothing important, they could wait. Besides, it was a bit early, but he felt eager to learn. School it was!

 

To this day, he still remembered his last three years in Elementary school, how his  (surrogate) brother and sister erected barriers around him when the only friend he thought he had suddenly became an enemy.

 

The second time he decided to open his big mouth... It had been, admittedly, a bit silly. The admission just slipped out. His best friend kept teasing the little blond girl with ponytails a grade under them. She and him were connected by the string, so he told him as much.

 

His friend’s reaction hadn’t been forthcoming, not even close to the positive response Shiro had believed he would get. Children can be cruel in the most easiest manner.

 

Suffice to say that he was tagged as delusional in his school for the next three years for talking to his, not anymore, best friend. By the end of his childhood, people didn’t even remember why the nickname  _ Craykashi _ was still a thing, a nickname nobody was even allowed to hint about around Matt and Katie.

 

It was Shiro’s decision to keep the truth secret after that, even from his family. No matter how his siblings had begged to comprehend why his friend was spouting such cryptic stories. They soon understood he would never speak a word of it, no matter what they tried.

 

He was young, but he was aware he needed rules to follow to survive. It became this epic story in his mind, he, a paladin in search of truth and justice and them, the devils with angel faces sent out to tempt him into submission. So he wrote them down on a square sheet of paper, folded it and hid it inside his favorite plush toy. Mr Black Lion would protect his secrets to the very end.

 

With the unsteady hand of a young boy, he scribbled a few rules, which he only updated once.

 

**Rules to win:**

 

  * ****Don’t ever tell anyone.****


  * **Don’t look for your soulmate.**


  * **Don’t think about it or try to understand it.**


  * **Don’t try and play matchmaker.**


  * **Don’t let your eyes wander. (Dead carp)**



 

 

Stepping on the bus, Shiro sat at the far end, trying to act natural while stepping around strings. Failing at noticing how the thread attached to a middle aged woman suddenly snapped to life, his eyes traveled along its length to a young man running pass the bus stop, the other end firmly tied to his ring finger.

 

Shiro looked down, pushing an earbud in his left ear and flicking away at the songs on his cellphone. None of them made sense right now. Pop. Rock. More pop. Emo crap. Urgh… maybe the radio...

 

_ Takashi, don’t you stare. Don’t stare. Don’t!  _

 

...and looked back up, curious.

 

_...you pathetic wimp. Damn it. _

 

He couldn’t help staring, as the young man leaned against the pole at the corner of the street and bent down, stretching his limbs lazily. His shirt rode up, showing off the long lines of his attractive back. As he did so, the string coiled around his wrist and pulled sharply. The young man paused, looked up, then around. His gaze zeroed in on the petite woman longingly watching him, never flinching. The interaction lasted about 3 seconds, as his left hand pushed his dark curls off his face and he grinned, winking at her.

 

She audibly gasped, before rapidly turning away, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She wasn’t anything special, a bit overweight, with skin in need of care, nails bitten off by stress, but her eyes were the color of summer sunsets with a hint of afternoon showers. The youth must have noticed, because his eyes remained on the woman for a moment, longer than necessary, before gazing down and away. The flitting look of pain passed his features, before returning to a concentrated smile.

 

Shiro bit his lower lip, knowing that he would probably ride this bus every day at the same time, with the same woman and the same young man doing his morning run, stopping at that corner, possibly waiting for her. Torture.

 

Maybe he could…? 

 

No he couldn’t.

 

 _Rule number 4 Takashi: Don’t try and play matchmaker._ **_EVER._**

 

He stepped off the bus with a sigh of relief, the task of ignoring the criss cross of reds and pinks barely achievable as he walked towards the main hall of his new school. He still had about an hour, so he slowed his pace, pulling his cellphone out of his pant pocket and called his good friend with a grin. “Hey Hunk!”

 

It was a fact that he DID try to ignore the quirk, but it was complicated. How could he not notice that his date, no matter how interesting they were, wasn’t his soulmate? Sometimes the color of the string was even wrong (Adam’s string had been a soft baby pink, a shame, he was really nice) and let us not talk about that one date when the string of his partner, a kind older man, had turned pitch black during diner.  _ Death of a loved one _ . That had put stones in his stomach for at least a month.

 

There was a saying that you could feel when your soulmate died, well Shiro… had the cursed ability to SEE IT.

 

He could almost hear the smile on his friend’s voice when it boomed in the speaker. “Shiro! You around?” Shiro chuckled, pulling his backpack tighter against his right shoulder. A sharp pain ran up from his elbow, which he dutifully ignored. “Yeah, I just got here. Where are you? Loitering?”

 

This was easier, concentrating on a conversation, shutting out the world.

 

“Rude.” Hunk laughed joyfully. “Near the football fields. Come around man, Kinkade brought his camera with photos of his trip in Europe. It is SWEET.” Football fields, right, he knew where that was, to the east side, close to the climbing walls. “Cool, save me a seat.” “Done and done my dude!” He heard the chatter of a group of friends before he hung up, feeling elated for reasons unknown.

 

Pushing the phone back in his pocket, Shiro made his way around the building, humming happily.

 

He often had nightmares about the event, the last date he ever went to. Waking up in cold sweat, clinging to his left hand and pulling on his string. (Because YES he could also feel it to some extent!) Every time it happened he sobbed for his soulmate’s life, and every time there it remained, the same red. A red so vibrant it was blinding. His own red string both a blessing and an affliction.

 

The torment of loving a special someone. A person without a face, without a voice, but with love so great he lamented it’s existence.

 

***

 

Lighting up his third cigarette of the morning was probably a bad idea, Allura would twist his ears about it, but damn he couldn’t manage the stress. Bills were coming in, his part-time job was cutting his hours for ambiguous reasons, while his coworkers complained about their schedule being packed. His boss was, undoubtedly, being an ASS about it (Adults.) and he just… needed a  _ break _ .

 

Sucking on his death stick, Keith scratched a few more years off his lifespan with the care of a cat pushing objects off a table in their master’s presence, abject indifference. He closed his eyes, letting the nicotine settle his prickling nerves and exhaled loudly. His cellphone buzzed in his hand and he stared at it, uncaring.

 

 **Lance [7:03]** _Where are you man?_

 

**Lance [7:03]** _ Get your skinny ass up here. I need a favor. Like now. _

 

Rolling his eyes heavenwards, he sighed.  _ Who needs enemies when you had friends like these? _ He dropped it on his bag and leaned against the dirty wall of the alley he was hiding in. Midst the miscellaneous garbage, dirt and weeds, he could see his fellow students mingling before the start of class. His eyes wandered lazily from person to person, analyzing.

 

_ Too fat. Too tall. Not tall enough. Ugly. Teeth are weird. Walks funny. Tiny hands. Ugly. Fucking ugly. Clearly into women. Wtf… are those CROCS?! _

 

_ Just. No. _

  
  


Why was he even here? It was too early.

 

Keith had a fair understanding of his tastes. He was into boys. Well, men. Tall, broad, with a panty dropping smile were his preferences (Generally what most people wanted really). He was of the lonely and angry kind, didn’t make friends easily, so that made his love life that much more complicated. It wasn’t that he was looking for any type of connection, it was just that… well… he was feeling somewhat... forlorn?

 

His cellphone buzzed again, sliding off his tattered bag to the ground. The screen lit up, showing Lance’s latest message which was a series of curses and emojis scrolling up his screen in a rapid succession. The needy bastard.

 

What even WAS his relationship with Lance? He couldn’t even tell anymore. Best friends he supposed, definitely a bit more closer than that. They had shared a make out session in their younger years under the influence of a lot of alcohol, which he barely remembered. Lance had been too much teeth, long nosed and stiffly unsatisfying, he couldn’t put his finger on why. They had never really talked about it except a short  _ “Nothing happened” _ from Lance the next morning. Keith had readily agreed. Nothing indeed.

 

Bending down, Keith picked up the device and stuffed it violently into his bag, ignoring the messages with a vengeance. The buzzing sound was muffled by books and a half empty pencil case. It was squeezed in agony at the bottom, sadly, not in the least forgotten.

 

Or maybe... it had been the natural scent of Lance’s skin that made Keith cringe a bit. Like a morning after heavy rain and worms were out of the ground? Wriggling and slimy and… just a strong tang scratching at his nostrils he couldn’t stand, especially when he was standing close. Something really unflattering he couldn’t ever voice out, especially not to his friend.

 

It was a bit ridiculous, because Lance was known for wearing exuberant perfumes. He always exuded a light mist of flowery fragrances Keith couldn’t even name. But still, he hadn’t been enough. It was still a fact that they both usually couldn’t stand each other for more than a few hours, so Keith was pretty certain an antic hoax meant to rile up the other would have ended up with a gruesome death and intense therapy. Not ideal.

 

Feeling strangely bold that morning, in between Lance’s obnoxiousness, stress about his job and his bills and his urgent need to turn his lungs into an ashtray, he couldn’t help but stand at the exit of the small alley he was hiding in. An open spot where everybody could see him. Teachers could catch him. Smoking wasn’t actually allowed on the school grounds, there were designated areas where one could smoke, but Keith stayed away from those. They were filled with middle aged teachers that made it their life’s goal to stop him from smoking, while they burned off half a pack per day.  _ Hypocrites _ .

 

He’d felt the tug, the call to act this foolishly, as if it was meant to be. Usually he ignored this kind of necessity for reckless behavior, but that day... He couldn’t explain it. He had an itch that he couldn’t quite reach at the very back of his lizard brain.

 

He stared skywards, the blue sky peeking out between the high walls of the university. This was idiotic. He walked further into the darkness, ignoring his urge.

 

Sighing loudly, he slouched against the wall, wedging the cigarette between his lips in rebellion against… something and returned his gaze to the mingling students, only to be stopped mid-inhalation by a strange occurrence: A man, a inherently tall, broad  _ (attractive) _ man was gesticulating right around the corner. Where he had been standing seconds ago.

 

_ What the fuck is he doing?  _ Was his single thought as he watched the dark haired buffoon grab his own left wrist and pull as if he was playing tug of war against an invisible enemy.

 

***

 

To say that Shiro had passed this alley without any mishap before would be a lie, because he’d never gone through or by it, ever. It was his first day at school. He had walked around the site a bit, but mostly inside. On top of that, through the building would have been a shorter walk, but it was such a nice day… Yeah, a nice sunny day.

 

When he felt the blood flow cut in his left hand as the grips of his red LEASH twisted and curled almost savagely around his hand and wrist, he knew something was up. Had the entire situation REALLY been his choice? The call from Hunk? The walk in the sun? The idea of getting out of his house earlier? Being  _ eager to learn! _ ?!?

 

He yelped in surprise at the strong pull from an invisible otherworldly force, one clearly bent on subjugation. Taking two hurried steps back, he whirled around and grabbed his wrist. What the HELL was going on?

 

Oh god, it’s pulling.

 

Shiro identified his predicament immediately. His string… his string wasn’t disappearing anymore. It was slithering across the grass and into the alley, like a an arrow to a bad omen.

 

Oh no.

 

_ Rule #2 Shiro, Don’t look for your soulmate. _

 

_ Don’t look... for your soulmate. _

 

_ DON’T LOOK FOR YOU SOULMATE. _

 

Shit, his soulmate was… he was… he was in the alley, wasn’t he? Oh no, he couldn’t just GO there. There was no way. Nope. No. No no no no no no. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t even remember what he was wearing, how he looked like. He couldn’t… why if he didn’t LIKE him? Was if it was a WOMAN?

 

Horror filled his being like a dry sponge soaking up water, his lungs rattled, his breath catching, blocking, as he wheezed. Oooh… he hadn’t even considered that. He couldn’t even look at women the way he could stare at men, but what if… what if… WHAT IF?

 

An internal meltdown was imminent as he tried to wrestle against his impending doom. Which was all for naught. Who battled against deities? Nobody, but Shiro wasn’t going to let this slide without a battle. It was WAR.

 

So he wrenched back with as much strength as he could muster only to fail miserably. Stumbling forward, he almost face planted, before his self-defense training kicked in and he rolled like an out of control windmill. The back of his head hit the ground, his glasses, surprisingly, still on his nose, but askew and his bag and its entire content a clear trail portraying his shame.

 

If he had ever thought he could make a good first impression to this person, the jokester in control of this entire BULLSHIT had made sure he was wrong. Thanks Satan, hope you had a good laugh.

 

He growled, his head half ringing, half reeling and the third half laughing.  _...wait what? Dude… I think you hit your head too hard _ . Was his single thought closing off the rambling mess of words in his mind. He let the silence hang, hoping that nobody was around, his eyes still closed. His body was acutely aware of everything in his vicinity however, the closeness of the walls, the dry dirt between his fingers, the sparse grass, the smell of garbage and nicotine in the air and a presence. Something, someone… in fight or flight mode, angry, distressed even, someone without a face.

 

His eyes popped open to a world of cerulean blue, the sky in the shape of a cross. If this was a religious experience, he was wholly against every single second of it.

 

He had told his mother once, when they were still happy, how he thought the sky was infinite, that the blue seemed to stretch and stretch so far he would never be able to touch it. Sunsets were the colors running away from him, the sun pulling a blanket over the vastness of space with a tapestry of stars, galaxies and its milky way.

 

She had answered to him with a small laugh. “Takashi dear, it’s actually the opposite. The blue is the blanket, the night sky is the real endlessness of the world.” It had been a life changing discovery to his young and eager mind. So  _ collecting stars _ had been his new “What do you want to be when you grow up?” answer. It eventually became astronaut, but only because all the adults replied the same thing. “Oh you mean Astronaut.” Cliché.

 

At this moment however, he could see the endless stretch of blue and felt that if he extended his hand, he might actually fall upwards and fly. So he did.

 

However, as he lifted his left hand up, the string followed, bleeding red, and pulled at the presence right beside him. The other soul he was meant to be entwined with, stepped forward, hiding the sky and its unbounded freedom.

 

Someone with a face.

 

A  pear shaped young face, with a straight nose, almond shaped dark eyes and silky messy hair tucked in braids around his ears. Ears pierced with multiple earrings and a mouth the colors of raspberries. A mouth tugged up at its corner by a devilish smile, one he wouldn’t mind kissing.

 

Shiro wasn’t much of a writer, but he had a perfect definition of what he was feeling at the moment.

 

Agonizing, exquisite  _ ruination _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Comments and kudos are loved! <3  
> Follow me, chat with me, come scream at me on tumblr @Seiteki9 and on twitter @RepeatEternity


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